


Future Scars

by tonyendo



Series: Sapphics and Science [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Future Fic, Gambling, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26312884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonyendo/pseuds/tonyendo
Summary: “You know what I think?” Moira murmured in her ear, smoke curling from her lips.“I think that deep down, you’re still soft for me, bunny.”
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Original Character(s), Moira O'Deorain/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Sapphics and Science [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887457
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Future Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Future fic— obvious spoilers ahead if you follow my main fic, Of Lilac and Clover!

There were several times a year she’d find herself in Monaco. Never for pleasure and always regarding the less public of her two jobs. Maximilien insisted on leaders meeting in the principality, as the casino owners had the authorities wrapped around their finger. Talon was just another measure to protect their wealth.

There were moments, after the meetings, where Moira preferred time alone to absorb new information. Often enough, she did so over the tables.

She was in the middle of a game of blackjack when her concentration was broken. Fingers trailed across her shoulder, down her arm, as she was circled. The woman crossed in front of her and sat in her lap.

“Can I help you?” Moira drawled, forced to play around the intrusion.

“I came to see how the meeting went.” Clover knocked Moira’s hand aside to place her bet for her. “Didn’t take you for the gambling type.”

“I dabble.” A hand went to Clover’s thigh to keep her steady. As she continued to make choices for her, the ginger relented and allowed her to play. The dealer bust on the first hand and Clover raked in more tokens. “It was fine— Korpal is interested in a new technological development in the United States.”

“Mm,” Clover hummed. “What is it that he’s interested in?”

Slowly, her thumb stroked the flesh at the hem of her dress. “He wouldn’t say— only that it’s more useful in our hands than in theirs.”

Moira withheld a wince as she placed a hefty wager. “Is spending all of my money part of your master plan to ruin my life?”

The brunette cast an innocent look over her shoulder, pushing her bet forward. “A means to an end.” 

As she turned back to the game, Moira stayed quiet, letting her consider her next move. A 15; it could go either way. Clover motioned to the dealer for a third card. She was dealt a nine and her chips were confiscated in the same gesture. Scowling, she readied another bet.

“I was teasing, but now I’m afraid I put the thought in your head,” she sighed. Moira flagged over a waitress and slipped her a banknote. The woman must have already known what she intended, because she thanked her before walking away. “Do you even know how to play?”

Clover glared at her. “It’s blackjack; don’t hit 21.” She shrugged and scanned the current play. 

“That’s the overly simplified version, yes.”

“It’s not that hard.” She started to add to her bet but was stopped as Moira seized her wrist.

The years had not been kind to Clover, twisting her to become cynical and _cocky_ around her ex. It would do no good to have her blow inane amounts of money on overzealous bets.

Mock pouting, she looked back to Moira with doe eyes. ”You called me lucky once. Do you not believe in me anymore?”

“I believe in _statistics_.”

Moira leaned forward, chips clicking as she doubled the bet. Before she sat back, she whispered in her ear. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

The dealer flipped their card and bust. They paid out each player. Grinning, Clover accepted the small mountain of winnings. “There’s much more I could make you regret.”

The waitress returned with both a glass and a carton of cigarettes. Moira accepted both of them, passing another note. “Fine— play to your heart's desire. When you’re out, don’t expect me to act as your personal bank.”

Clover rolled her eyes. “You also used to love spending money on me. What happened to that?”

“You threw several thousand dollars into the river.”

“Canal, actually, and it’s not like you were coming for it.”

Moira took her hand off Clover’s thigh long enough to light a cigarette. While she was busy feeding her nicotine addiction, it left her open to being robbed of her gin and tonic.

“My game, my money, my gin,” she huffed. “Bloody hell, would you like my cigarette while you’re at it?” 

She raised it to her lips, but found that whisked away as well.

Clover took the first drag before passing it back, a devilish smirk on her lips. The smirk was wiped away by an abrupt coughing fit. Moira half believed she deserved it and half worried about her newfound recklessness.

Moira sighed. Tapping her thigh, she nodded towards the table. “You’re holding up the game.”

Clover took another drink before shoving the glass into Moira’s awaiting palm. It was already half empty— she’d have to order _two_ next time the waitress came around, as she clearly couldn't enjoy anything on her own.

Giving the cards a moment’s glance, Clover passed, to Moira’s dismay. The inner corner of her eye twitched at the bad move. It was only a few hundred dollars— a minute fraction of her wealth, thanks to Talon,— but seeing it thrown away on careless bets stung.

“I’d rather be playing with Sombra,” Clover lamented. “She has the _best_ luck on the slot machines.”

“It’s not luck.”

“Yes, but the company is much better,” she sighed, dramatic. “A shame she’s banned from them.”

“You couldn’t find Olivia, so you decided to pester me instead?”

“Correct. I have to meet my daily loathing quota.”

“As always, you claim to vehemently despise me,” she sighed. Moira upturned her palm, no longer touching her. “Yet you appear content to sit in my lap, spend my money, and share my drink. You _could_ be with Sombra, you _could_ sit in the empty chair _literally_ beside me to play, and yet here you are.” The hand rested on her leg once more as she didn’t budge.

She snorted. “Yeah? And who’s letting me sit in her lap?” She threw back. A weak response, compared to some of the things she’d said in recent months.

The omnic dealt her a natural blackjack. Seeing it, she twisted around to grin at her. Moira’s heart faltered at the way her face lit up with delight.

It was an expression she hadn’t seen in years. It made her nostalgic. Her smile reminded her of days when Talon wasn’t breathing down her neck, and when the Ministry wasn’t requiring her input on every report. Days when the largest stressor in her life was picking out the perfect gem and getting the right band size. For a brief moment she was reminded of the intern she had left behind many years prior.

The joyous countenance disappeared as quick as it came on. Clearing her throat she turned back towards the table. Instead of placing another harebrained bet, she lowered her wager, conserving her money. “Fine. I wanted to come spend time with you. _Don’t_ read too far into it.”

Moira studied her expression. Purple eyes were steeled, unwavering as they focused on the game before her. Her posture had gone rigid. She’d gotten under her skin, Moira realized, and she’d done was point out the obvious.

She flicked her ashes into a provided ashtray. “Curious. Why is it that one moment you’re hellbent on tearing me down, but the next you crave my presence?” She raised an eyebrow while taking a drag.

The dig was not met with a sharp response. For the moment, Clover had ceased her verbal assault. Either that, or she couldn’t think of a counter.

Moira’s hand wandered, drawing up her thigh and to her hip. She leaned in as though she were watching the game more intently.

“You know what I think?” Moira murmured in her ear, smoke curling from her lips. 

“I think that _deep down_ , you’re still soft for me, bunny.”

The edge of Clover’s lip ticked up in distaste. Despite the look, her gaze shifted— a tell, giving way to a grain of truth. 

She shoved every chip she had forward, betting all-in. Cards were dispersed, two queens tossed in front of them— spades and hearts. A cruel irony. Also a win, given the dealer didn’t hit blackjack or reach a draw. Moira was staggered to find that Clover was about to double her money.

“You know what _I_ think?” Without taking her eyes from the table, she motioned to the omnic to hit. The tokens were confiscated as she threw the hand. Clover smashed back the remainder of the gin and tonic. 

Finally, her eyes met Moira’s as she twisted around. She expected hazel eyes with a kind gleam to them, she always did. What she was met with was steeled purple irises and caged emotions. “I think you’re an arrogant _bitch_ who can’t just enjoy a moment.”

“So you admit you’re enjoying yourself?”

Clover wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb, careful not to smear her lipstick. Then, she swiped the digit across Moira’s bottom lip.

“Eat your fucking heart out, O’Deorain.”

Clover slid from her lap, storming off deeper into the casino.

Moira nodded in thanks to the dealer as she pushed away from the table, pocketing her cigarettes. Swiftly, she followed Clover through the throng of patrons.

“You cannot be mad at me forever, Clover.”

Clover put her foot down, stopping in the middle of the crowd. Her head snapped up to glare at the woman. “No, not forever,” she agreed. “Just long enough I forget about it, right?”

She’d shown her cards, as it were, and it helped Moira realize the true crux of her anger. A fib that, at the time, had seemed kinder than the truth. 

“Everything I did was in your best interest— it would have killed you to know.”

“And it’s not killing me now?”

The shorter leered up at her. She was waiting for an answer, she realized too late.

Clover jammed a finger into her expensive suit. “I could have forgiven you for abandoning me, Moira. I could have even forgiven you for joining...” Her voice wavered. Her walls were cracking again— how sturdy had they been to start? How had she stumbled through a facade for so long?

“I could have forgiven you for _everything_ had you not _lied_ to me,” she whispered. “You lied to me about the one thing you _knew_ would devastate me, and I can’t… how the hell am I supposed to look past that?”

Slender lavender fingers wrapped around her wrist. “I don’t expect you to. All I ask is—”

She ripped her hand away, and Moira felt her skin catch on one of her nails. “I don’t owe you a second chance, Moira. I don’t owe you redemption— hell, I don‘t even owe you my _time_. You can’t fix what you already broke, so just… _stop trying_ already _._ ”

Turning on her heel, Clover forced her way through the river of tourists that had parted around them. Moira called after, attempted to slide into the crowd, but was stopped by a tug on her jacket.

“Let her go, _tía_.” Sombra pressed a fresh drink into the dazed woman’s hands. No doubt she’d been spying on them throughout the whole ordeal. “She’ll come around.”

Her grip on the glass tightened. _I’m afraid she won’t,_ she wanted to say. Instead, she raised the glass to her lips and downcast her eyes.

“It’s not like she can go far, should she choose not to.”

No one left Talon, and they made sure of it.


End file.
